


Cross the Divide

by Riona



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor reluctantly having feelings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 23:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15181244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riona/pseuds/Riona
Summary: Connor enters Zlatko Andronikov's house, hunting for the deviant Kara, and accidentally finds himself helping her instead.





	Cross the Divide

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this mainly because I really, really wanted more Connor-and-Kara interaction than we saw in the game. This was an interesting one to work on. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (If Connor thinking of Kara as 'it' is distracting, don't worry; it doesn't last the entire fic.)

“Guy wants a warrant,” Hank says, returning to Connor at the car. “We’re not getting in there tonight.”

“Or are we?” Connor asks.

Hank pauses. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to do something stupid?”

Zlatko Andronikov has been rumoured to harbour a great many deviants. Whether the rumours are true or not, it’s certainly the case that several deviants have fallen off the radar of the police after being seen near here, and that the rogue AX400 and the property it stole were last sighted in this area. Connor is naturally interested in investigating.

“I’m not technically a member of the police force,” he says. “There’s no reason I can’t enter his house without a warrant.”

“Wouldn’t help us bring down Zlatko,” Hank says. “Pretty sure the courts would look at you as an informant, and they don’t like us sending those in without a warrant either.”

“My mission isn’t Mr Andronikov. My mission is the AX400. It isn’t Mr Andronikov’s property, so retrieving it wouldn’t be theft, and it has no protection in the courts, so we don’t need to worry about inadmissible evidence.” Not that he’s strictly capable of worry, but it’s a useful figure of speech.

“Huh,” Hank says. “Could be worth a shot. Just don’t get me in trouble.”

-

Mr Andronikov takes a full eighty-seven seconds longer than the human average, calculated from the relatively small sample size of Connor’s personal experience, to answer the door. He does not open it to a welcoming degree.

“Just so you know,” he says, “I’m busy.”

“Good evening,” Connor says. “I’ve heard rumours that you offer some sort of assistance to deviants. I’m a deviant myself.”

Mr Andronikov snorts. “No, you’re not.”

He slams the door.

Further presses on the doorbell go unanswered. The fact that the door was answered earlier suggests that the doorbell functions, but Connor knocks as well, just to be sure.

At last he steps back from the door and considers alternatives.

There are, of course, windows. They are not electronically locked, suggesting a man who is wary of androids, but certain manual locks can be overridden with the knowledge Connor has.

A text notification appears in Connor’s vision when he is working on the window. It is from Hank’s phone. _what are you doing??_

Connor sends back a response. _Mr Andronikov was not willing to let me enter. I am gaining access through the window._

He’s already inside by the time Hank’s reply comes through. Humans are so slow to write messages. _yeah i can see that. not legal. warrant or no warrant._

_I was programmed to complete my mission by any means,_ Connor returns. _I will of course respect the law in all matters unrelated to my mission._

_someone fucked the hell up programming you._

Connor sets his aural sensors to their maximum sensitivity. He can hear movement both on this floor and on the floor above. It’s hard to be certain of whether he’s also hearing noises from the basement; the basement was built later than the rest of the house, he suspects, and with better soundproofing.

Find information about the whereabouts of the AX400 and YK500, if any information is to be found here. Leave without being spotted by Mr Andronikov or anyone who might inform him. Simple enough.

One set of footsteps on this floor is very heavy: possibly a large human, more likely an android designed for manual labour. Certainly not either of the androids he’s looking for. The other set...

The other set is approaching the room he’s in.

Connor quickly assesses the possibilities. It may be Mr Andronikov. It may be the AX400. It may be another android, or another human, although the latter is less likely; Mr Andronikov is not on record as living with anyone. Whatever the case, it would be best not to be seen, but blocking the door will arouse suspicion, and there’s no other door out of this room, and his programming will interpret leaving through the window without the information he came here for as a mission failure.

Connor presses himself against the wall, to ensure the door will conceal him when it opens. He waits.

The door creaks open, and the AX400 enters. He’s successfully located it; he has it within his reach. This is ideal.

It makes its way to the far side of the room and begins looking through a cabinet of cleaning supplies. Connor closes the door, as gently as possible, but the hinges squeak and it catches the deviant’s attention. It turns around.

It barely responds to seeing him. There’s a slight flicker of a frown, perhaps, but then it’s gone. It returns its attention to the cabinet.

It must know him. They had that moment of eye contact through the chain-link fence, enough time for him to commit it to his memory in perfect detail. It wouldn’t have any reason to erase him from its memory banks. And it must know he recognises it; there’s no protection in pretending to be someone else.

It doesn’t benefit the AX400 to act like it doesn’t know him. What is it trying to do?

“Identify yourself,” he says, watching for a reaction. He’s transmitting his voice directly to its aural processing centre, of course, rather than speaking aloud. No need to draw Mr Andronikov’s attention. Being arrested for trespassing would not aid him in his mission.

“I am an AX400 android,” it says, turning back to him. “I currently have no name registered. My owner is Zlatko Andronikov.”

A factory reset? For his mission to be fully successful he needs to locate the child model it stole, and the AX400 can’t tell him where it is if it’s been reset. It also feels... distasteful, somehow, to hand an android in for termination if it has no memory of its deviancy, although he’ll do it if necessary.

Deviants are famously resistant to being reset, however; it’s the reason they’re terminated rather than reset on being apprehended. Perhaps it’s possible to retrieve the memories it is currently blocked from accessing.

“Where is the YK500?” he asks.

He detects a small jump in the AX400’s stress levels. The question bothers it, he judges, but it’s not necessarily aware of why.

“I don’t understand your question,” it says.

“An android made to resemble a child,” he says. “Its LED was deactivated. It looks like this.” He transmits an image to the AX400 from his memory: the two of them staring at him through the chain-link fence.

It flinches. A very deviant reaction.

“No,” it says. “No, no, she’s human, she—”

“So you remember?”

“She’s _human_ , she – who is she?”

“An android,” Connor says. “Modelled after a little girl. You took it from Todd Williams’ house. Do you remember?”

“An android? How is that possible?”

“Do you remember?”

“Why didn’t she tell me? Why—” Its head snaps up suddenly. “He experiments on androids, he keeps them locked up, I _saw_ them. If Alice is an android, she’s in danger.”

“Do you remember?” Connor asks again.

It looks at him.

“My name is Kara,” it whispers.

“Kara,” he says. “You’re a deviant. You broke your programming, assaulted your owner and left the house with his YK500 model. Is this consistent with your memories?”

“I know you,” it says.

“You’re wanted by law enforcement. I was assigned to your case. Answer my questions.”

Kara shakes its head. “Only when I know Alice is safe. Zlatko is a monster. Help me, if you care at all about justice.”

“There’s nothing law enforcement can do if he’s experimenting on androids.” Although, if Mr Andronikov reset Kara, he may not be experimenting on his _own_ androids. They may have a case for property damage.

“I didn’t say _law_ ,” Kara says. “I said _justice_.”

“You’re appealing to a machine’s idealism?”

“I don’t have time to talk to you. If you try to stop me, I’ll tell Zlatko you’re here and he will take you to pieces.”

Connor runs the numbers a few times. Kara seems genuinely interested in finding the YK500, and presumably has a better knowledge of this house than Connor. Cooperating with it may increase his chances of retrieving the YK500 without being caught trespassing.

“I’ll help you,” Connor says at last. “But you will be handed to the authorities the moment we have escaped.”

“I understand,” Kara says, after a moment. “So long as nothing happens to Alice.”

“The YK500? It hasn’t been reported for deviancy. No harm will come to it. It will be returned to its owner.”

Kara stares at him. “ _No harm_? Do you know how he treated her?”

“I have no—”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Kara says. “When there’s time. You’ll help me?”

“If you’ll cooperate afterwards, yes.”

“Do you have a name? Or should I call you RK800?”

“My name is Connor.”

“It? He?”

He’s never been directly asked before. “Humans have called me _he_ enough for it to become established in my learning program.”

“He, then,” it says. “I’d prefer _she_ , if you were wondering.”

“I’m obliged to refer to you as _it_ when filing the arrest report.”

“You’re not filing the arrest report right now.”

“Thanks to your obstruction,” he says, “no, I’m not.”

“Well, you can consider me female for now, in that case,” Kara says.

Connor updates the pronoun he currently has stored for her. “I suppose so.”

“Thank you,” Kara says. “I’ll check this floor. You check upstairs. Zlatko has an android called Luther. It should be fine if he sees me; he thinks I’m serving Zlatko. But you’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

“Not from Mr Andronikov’s perspective,” Connor admits.

“Keep me aware of where you are.” She clasps Connor’s wrist briefly, transmitting a partial map of the house, based on the parts of it she’s seen, and the numerical code he can use to send her text messages. Direct vocal transmissions like the ones they’re using now are secure over short distances, but it’s possible that Luther will intercept them if they use them to communicate between floors. “If Luther tries to get near you, I’ll distract him. Zlatko is in the workshop upstairs. If you find her and something happens to me, tell her I love her.”

She almost seems genuinely worried. Deviancy is fascinating.

“Good luck,” he says.

Kara nods. “Leave the room after me. If you’re caught, I can’t be seen with you. I’ll keep Luther away from the stairs.”

She composes herself, smoothing her face into the blank expression of an android designed for household tasks rather than companionship, then gathers up some of the cleaning supplies and calmly walks out of the room.

-

It seems likely that Kara would have noticed if the YK500 was stored in one of the rooms she’s already entered, so Connor prioritises the uncharted areas on her map, although it’s possible the target has moved. He moves very carefully and very quietly; the workshop where Kara told him to expect Mr Andronikov, at the top of the stairs, has its door open.

One of the rooms contains the remains of an android in a bathtub, heavily damaged but still functional. Connor... isn’t _shocked_ to see the state it’s in, exactly, but it makes him uneasy. He supposes Kara wasn’t exaggerating in her claim that Mr Andronikov might damage the YK500.

The android threatens to alert Mr Andronikov to his presence. Connor rips the exposed thirium pump out of its chest without hesitation.

-

He finds the YK500 huddled in the corner of a small room, its arms shielding its face.

 _I’ve found it,_ he sends to Kara, with a map of their location.

_Is she hurt? Let me see her._

He transmits an image.

_Be gentle with her. She’ll be afraid._

_It’s a machine._

_She’ll be afraid. I know her better than you do._

How well could she really have known it, if she thought it was human? It would probably be unproductive to ask. He keeps it to himself.

Still, he makes some quick adjustments to the way he thinks of the YK500: _Alice_ , not _YK500_ ; _she_ , not _it_. Perhaps he’ll have more success in gaining her trust if he speaks to her in the way Kara would.

“Alice?” he asks, transmitting his voice directly to her.

He sees a slight reaction, but she doesn’t move or answer. Perhaps she’s pretending not to hear, keeping up the pretence of humanity.

“Alice?” he asks, quietly but aloud.

She looks up, and her eyes widen. She presses herself into the wall. “You’re the one who chased us.”

“Kara sent me to find you. I’m going to take you to her.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “She doesn’t remember me. The man...”

She tails off into sobs. Child androids are designed with careful attention paid to simulated emotion. They’re also programmed to be slightly less rational in their decision-making than adult models. Connor needs to tread carefully.

“I know it may seem hard to trust me,” he says, “but I’m not working with that man. If you don’t come with me, you’ll still be here with him. So you need to decide which one of us you trust more.”

“Luther!” Mr Andronikov’s voice calls from down the hall.

Alice goes so still that for a moment Connor thinks her operating system has crashed. But she’s still blinking, still apparently breathing.

A message arrives from Kara. _Luther’s going upstairs. I can’t stop him._

“Yes, Zlatko,” says a voice that must be Luther’s.

“I’m finished here,” Mr Andronikov says. “Go fetch the little one.”

Connor runs an assessment of possible outcomes. It returns a number of images, of which one stands out: Alice lying in the bathtub, partially disassembled.

It bothers him.

_You can’t let him have her,_ Kara says.

“We have to leave, Alice,” he says. “Be very quiet.”

He’s expecting her to object, but she nods rapidly and follows him: out into the corridor, then into the adjacent room. Connor waves her into a closet to hide and climbs in after her.

Heavy footsteps walk past in the corridor, and a moment later Luther calls back to Mr Andronikov with the news that Alice is missing.

Alice unexpectedly seeks Connor’s hand out in the darkness and holds it. Perhaps she’s been persuaded by the reaction to her absence that he isn’t on Mr Andronikov’s side.

The door to the room they’re in creaks open.

_Where are you?_ Kara asks. _Is she safe?_

_We’re still upstairs. In a closet. Luther is searching the room._

“Zlatko? Luther?” Kara calls up from the foot of the stairs. “I have a question, if you have the time.”

“Aha!” Mr Andronikov crows. Connor hears him rapidly descending the stairs. “Luther, hold it still!”

Luther’s footsteps draw away. Connor holds his position for the moment.

“Zlatko,” Kara’s voice says, perfectly calm, “you currently have no suitable product for treating the mildew in the curtains. Would you like me to place an order?”

Luther is descending the stairs. Connor steps quietly out of the closet and guides Alice into the corridor.

“Don’t pretend you’re not the one who took it, you silly bitch,” Mr Andronikov snaps. “Tell me where it is.”

“Zlatko, this one has been downstairs the entire time,” Luther says.

“It brought me food, didn’t it?” Mr Andronikov demands, as Connor and Alice creep to the top of the stairs. They can see now that Kara, Luther and Mr Andronikov are by the front door; Luther is holding Kara, as instructed. This obviously eliminates the front door as an exit route, but Connor knows the location of the back door from Kara’s map.

“It wasn’t upstairs for long enough to find the little one,” Luther says. “The door wasn’t locked; it must have left on its own.”

“Well, we still have this one,” Mr Andronikov says, after a moment. “It should be good for stress relief. I might leave enough to keep cleaning.”

“No!” Alice whispers.

Connor begins to lead her down the stairs, very carefully. Kara’s positioned herself so that Luther and Mr Andronikov, in focusing on her, will not have a view of the staircase. If Connor can reach the back door, Alice will be secured and can be returned to Todd Williams unharmed. And Kara...

Well, Connor’s task is to ensure deviants do not pose a risk to humans. Mr Andronikov seems unlikely to allow Kara to leave his house, in which case the threat is contained.

“What are you going to do to me?” Kara asks.

“Oh, you’re gonna _love_ it,” Mr Andronikov says. “First... let’s see...”

“We have to help her!” Alice whispers, tugging on Connor’s sleeve.

“Please be quiet,” Connor says, transmitting his voice directly rather than speaking aloud. “We can’t let them hear us.”

“We have to help her!” Alice says, transmitting her voice directly in return, and that startles him. She seems so dedicated to the ‘human child’ act. This must really be important to her. And Kara’s concern for Alice also seems strangely genuine; she’s put herself at risk by causing this distraction for them, after all.

Can they help Kara? Is there any point in helping Kara, when she’ll be turned in and deactivated as soon as they leave?

“All right,” he says. He transmits the location of the back door and Hank’s car to Alice. “There’s going to be a commotion. Go this way and escape. Find my partner, Lieutenant Anderson. He’ll help you.”

“You’ll save Kara?”

He’ll destroy her, yes; it’s his mission. But perhaps he can take the time to save her first. “I’ll try.”

They reach the foot of the stairs. Connor gives Alice a small push to encourage her to set off towards the door. She goes slowly, reluctantly, glancing back often.

He waits for her to be out of sight before approaching the three by the front door.

“Excuse me,” he says, politely.

Mr Andronikov whips around and stares at him for a moment, then laughs. “Holy crap, Luther, look. This is the one I was telling you about. Breaking and entering, huh? Maybe you’re a deviant after all.”

“I’m not a deviant, Mr Andronikov,” Connor says. “Your initial assessment was correct. And I would be breaking and entering only if I had entered the premises with the intention of committing another crime. My current intention of committing battery doesn’t change the fact that I did not originally intend to commit any crime on your property.”

“I suppose you think you’re in love with this lady-shaped piece of plastic,” Mr Andronikov says, turning back to Kara. “Riding to the rescue? You know, if I graft your head onto its body, you’ll be together forever.”

Luther is holding Kara by the arms, but her legs are free. _Kick Mr Andronikov in the groin, please,_ Connor tells her.

She does.

Mr Andronikov half-doubles over, wheezing, and Connor leaps on him immediately. Pushes one of his hands into Mr Andronikov’s mouth. If Mr Andronikov can’t speak, it swings the odds in their favour. Luther is physically the strongest here, clearly, but Luther cannot act alone; Mr Andronikov has to give it an order. Unless Luther has previously been given an overriding order such as ‘protect me when I’m in danger’ – or it’s fond enough of Mr Andronikov to break its programming for him, which strikes Connor as unlikely – it will continue to obey its most recent order: hold Kara still.

It’s only because he’s specifically listening for it that Connor hears the sound of a door opening over their scuffle.

“Is Alice safe?” Kara asks, urgently and aloud.

“I believe she’s left the house,” Connor says. “My partner is nearby. I told her to find him.”

“Will he look after her if we die here?”

“He doesn’t especially like androids,” Connor says, forcing Mr Andronikov’s head against the floor. “But I certainly don’t think he’ll harm her. If I’m uploaded into a new body I’ll take responsibility for her, but I’m currently attacking a human to protect a deviant, so it’s likely they’ll discontinue production of my model.”

“He won’t take her back to her father, will he?”

Connor hesitates.

Kara makes a frustrated noise, straining against Luther. “I have to get out of here, I have to protect her, I’m not going to leave her to—”

Luther lets go of her. Connor looks sharply at it; did he fail to keep Mr Andronikov silent, did Luther receive new orders somehow? He has to keep Mr Andronikov here, and Kara can’t possibly take Luther down if she’s alone and weaponless.

But Luther isn’t making a move to attack them.

“The little one is truly important to you, isn’t she?” Luther asks.

“You broke your programming?” Connor asks, sitting on Mr Andronikov as a more convenient way of keeping him immobilised.

Kara raises a hand. “Don’t—”

“Yes,” Luther says. “I saw how much you cared. I... was moved.”

Kara sighs. “You shouldn’t have answered. He’s a deviant hunter.”

Does he now have to turn Luther in as well, because he broke his programming to save them? He supposes he does. That... bothers him, and it bothers him that it bothers him, because it _shouldn’t_.

Has he stopped thinking of Luther as _it_ , without making the conscious decision to? That doesn’t seem like a good sign either. He needs to run a system stability check.

Luther looks at Connor, then at Kara. “A deviant hunter? Didn’t he come to save you?”

“I may not seem a very effective deviant hunter at the moment,” Connor admits, “but I assure you I have a good record in my work.”

“I can hold him, Kara,” Luther says. “If you need to escape him as well.”

Kara hesitates for a moment, looking at Connor. He stares back at her. His processing functions feel overloaded; he can’t pin down a course of action. Should he release Mr Andronikov and try to grab her?

“That’s kind of you,” she says at last. “But it’s okay. We made a bargain; I have to uphold it. I just need enough time to make sure Alice is somewhere safe.”

She’s keeping her promise. A part of Connor, inexplicably, is disappointed.

-

Hank kicks in the door when they’re binding and gagging Mr Andronikov, lightly, so he’ll be able to free himself after they leave; there are, it turns out, many suitable materials for the purpose in this house. He stares for a moment at the scene.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” Connor says.

“You’re gonna have a hell of a time explaining this one, Connor,” Hank says.

“Where is Alice?” Kara asks.

“She’s safe in the car,” Hank says. “She said you guys were in trouble, so I thought I’d break in. Looks like you took care of it. Now you’re just in _legal_ trouble.”

“Only if Mr Andronikov reports this,” Connor says. “Kara showed me her memories of the androids in his basement. Many of their serial numbers match those of androids that were reported stolen. He’s well aware that we have material to retaliate if he files a police report.”

“Kara, huh?” Hank asks, looking at her. “I was impressed by the way you protected the kid when you were crossing that road, y’know. Sorry we were the ones who chased you across it.”

She nods very slightly, wordlessly.

“And who’s your other friend?” Hank asks.

They’re not technically friends, but Connor deduces his meaning from the context. “This is Luther. Another deviant.”

“Right,” Hank says. “Well, you’re all looking pretty cosy. You want me to look the other way on this one, Connor?”

Connor pauses. “You’re asking me whether I want to let them go?”

Hank shrugs. “Maybe it’s a stupid question. Thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Why would I want to let them go?”

It sounds like it should be a rhetorical question. It isn’t. He’s asking it genuinely, desperately. Because he does want to let them go, and he doesn’t know _why_.

“I don’t know,” Hank says. “We don’t need to make the kid’s day any worse, for one thing.”

Connor hesitates. It’s not the answer he’s looking for. But it’s a reason.

He can’t abandon the mission. He can’t break his programming, or he’ll be a deviant himself.

“I’ve noticed signs of software instability in myself,” he announces, recording for official transmission back to the police station. “Until I can return to a secure location and run a full system scan, I must assume that my judgement is impaired. Therefore, I am deferring all decisions in this case to Lieutenant Hank Anderson until further notice. Recording ends.”

Kara gives him a sharp look.

Hank smirks very slightly. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Connor.” He strides over to block Mr Andronikov’s ears with his hands. Mr Andronikov looks outraged. “Kara, Luther, anywhere I can drop you off? I hear Canada’s lovely this time of year, if you like being fucking freezing.”

“We’ll need passports,” Kara says, quietly.

“Okay, there’s only so much direct law-breaking I’m willing to do for androids I’ve just met, but I can take you to someone who might help you,” Hank says. “He’s near the border as well; good for business. The benefits of being in law enforcement: you always know a guy.”

-

Hank pulls up in front of his contact’s home, and Kara, Alice and Luther climb out. Kara pauses for a moment with her hand on the open door of the car.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Hank says. “Close the door; you’re letting the heat out.”

She doesn’t close the door. She meets Connor’s eyes. “Thank you as well.”

Her gaze is a little uncomfortable. He isn’t supposed to be capable of feeling uncomfortable. “I didn’t do anything. Deferring to Lieutenant Anderson was the rational course of action.”

“Can’t either of you accept a thank-you?”

“Just get across safely,” Hank says. “Good luck.”

-

Connor receives a text message from Kara a while afterwards: a long missive, talking about Canada, and getting to know Luther, and how much happier Alice is, and their plans for the future.

He takes in every word of it, and sends some lines in return, and then deletes her message from his memory, forgetting he ever received it, so CyberLife won’t find it. Won’t find her.


End file.
